Even the Best of Us Make Mistakes
by dietcherrysoda
Summary: Albus Dumbledore's confidence is at an all-time low. Can another staff member help him? First fic, please review!


Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, buried his face in his hands. His head was pounding dully. It was all too much; this was beginning to become insane. Why did everyone rely on him, trust him to always be correct and never lose his cool? Why did everyone assume that he had no emotions, that he was never unsure or even human? He was human! Why could no one see that he got angry or lonely or sad? To the wizarding world, he was a rock, a lone stone pillar that felt nothing, but held everything together. It wasn't fair.

Albus smiled into his palms. He sounded like Harry. A second later he frowned. It was hard to even think about Harry without remembering that day in his office. The fury that Harry had released and the lost, desperate feeling that had taken hold of the Headmaster were emotions that were still raw, and hurt to think about. The sound of someone knocking at his office door startled him out of his thoughts.

"Come in." he said softly. The door opened and Minerva McGonagall stepped in.

"Please sit down," he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. "I'm delighted to hear that you are feeling better!"

The Transfiguration teacher made quite a show of balancing her walking stick against his desk before murmuring "Thank you, Headmaster." An awkward silence followed.

"Minerva, I'm sorry."

"For what?" she answered finally, looking up at him but not quite meeting his eyes.

"For leaving." She stood up abruptly, wavered for a moment, than grabbed her walking stick and began to pace the office.

"It's my fault that you got injured. It's all my fault." He buried his head back into his hands.

"Oh, don't pull that on me!" She snapped.

"Beg pardon?"

"The old, woe is me, my life's a wreck, the whole world's out to get me. Who do you think you are, Potter?! Listen, the Ministry wanted to_ throw you in Azkaban_. If that's not a good reason to run away, I don't know what is." He looked up at her, astonished.

"Albus," she said softly, abandoning her former tone. "You are an amazing man. You are, to me and many others, a hero. Not just because you're extremely powerful or because V-Voldemort fears you. It's because you care. You worry so much about your students and former students. You care about them like they're your own flesh and blood. You forget sometimes, I think, that you can't control the world. You can't make sure everybody's safe at one time, Albus. Just because someone gets hurt or killed doesn't mean it's your fault. Just because you make a mistake doesn't mean the world is going to end. I'm fine and Potter will be fine."

The Headmaster looked up at her, tears in her eyes.

"But—Sirius—if I hadn't—if I had just told Harry—"

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is! Don't you understand?! If I would've just accepted that Harry had to know, if I would've just let Sirius know he was needed, he would still be with us today! People rely on me, Minerva; you think I don't realize that? If I say to someone 'stay home' they will stay home! I have that power and it's worked against me." Tears were running down his face and he didn't bother to wipe them away.

"Do you remember when I was in the first year?" She asked. He looked up at her.

"Yes."

"You were teaching transfiguration. You were my idol. I practically worshiped you. My dream was to grow up to be like you, to teach like you, and be as powerful as you. I wanted to to be able to earn the respect you received and be called upon for help as you were everyday. I've known known you since I was eleven years old, Albus. That's a _long _time." She paused and chuckled slightly. "And my opinion of you hasn't changed much since the first year. You are still my idol. Do me a favor, Professor. Don't fail me. Don't turn your back on us now, when we need you the most. We need you. We love you. You have to know that." He looked up sharply. No one had said they loved him since...he couldn't remember anyone ever saying they loved him. He looked up at her, his vision blurred. He wanted to tell her how great _she _was and what a wonderful friend and teacher she had proved to be. But all he could choke out was

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to attend to some matters involving the hospital wing." She began to head towards the door.

"Minerva?" She stopped and turned.

"I love you too."


End file.
